


The Delta Force

by Seren_Maris



Series: Parallels [1]
Category: Power Rangers S.P.D.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seren_Maris/pseuds/Seren_Maris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident with the inter-dimensional hyperspace relocator leaves Sky stranded in a dark parallel universe. Will he ever make it home? Sky/Bridge friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend. - Unknown_

* * *

"Give it up, Tomars," Jack shouted. The rest of his team lined up beside him. Tomars was cornered, trapped between five rangers and a tall metal fence. "There's nowhere else to run!"

"This time, we're taking you in," Sky added and drew his blaster.

Three months had passed since Tomars teleported Jack and Sky to a parallel universe. Boom had managed to bring them home, and nobody — not even Piggy — had seen or heard from Tomars since then. Sky had assumed that the criminal was trapped forever in a parallel universe. He was clearly wrong.

"We'll see about that, rangers," Tomars sneered. He lifted a silver laptop in one hand and shot them a slippery smile. "I think you'll find that my new inter-dimensional hyper-speed relocator is… _magnificent_."

Bridge suddenly clutched his head. His blaster slipped from nerveless fingers and dropped to the ground. In that moment, Sky forgot all about Tomars and the relocator. He forgot about their mission.

"Bridge!" The green ranger wavered on his feet, and Sky reached out to steady him. "What's wrong?"

Bridge shook his head. "I don't know." His voice trembled. "Something…"

Several things happened at once. Tomars drew a blaster from his ragged coat just as Jack activated his morpher.

"S.P.D. Emergency!" Jack deflected the first blast with his striker and returned fire. The deadly red beam streaked toward the criminal, but Tomars held up the relocator as a shield.

There was a brilliant flash of light. The metallic surface of the relocator rippled as it absorbed the blast, leaving Tomars unharmed. The criminal's clawed hands shook where they gripped the relocator, but his expression was triumphant.

"See," Tomars said. "I told you it was perfect." As if to contradict him, the laptop sizzled with purple electricity. Tomars gave a pained yelp and hurtled it at the closest ranger.

Sky instinctively raised his arm to deflect it.

"Don't!" Bridge shouted.

It was too late.

Sky touched the inter-dimensional hyper-speed relocator. It was like being struck by lightning. Every muscle in his body seized and froze. An invisible force was tearing him apart, and he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't even scream. The last thing he saw was Bridge reaching toward him before the world fell away.

* * *

The laptop slammed into the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. Bridge stood stunned, his hand still outstretched. Where two rangers had once stood, there was now only one.

"I lost him," Bridge said numbly. Sky was gone and, in a flash of premonition, Bridge knew he might never return. How had a simple mission gone so horribly wrong?

Jack covered the ground in three quick strides. He lifted Tomars by his shirt. "Where did you send him?" Jack demanded. Tomars whimpered as the red ranger slammed him against the fence. "Bring him back!"

"I can't!" Tomars tried and failed to squirm away from the iron grip. "He could be anywhere in the universes!"

Jack spoke into his morpher. "Sky? Can you hear me? Come in, Sky!" But there was no response, only an ominous, empty silence.

* * *

First there was light. Brighter than the sun, brilliant, blinding, searing. Blades of color cut through the white, folding inward like a kaleidoscope. After what could have been minutes or mere seconds, there was a thunderous sound. A jagged line appeared and quickly became thicker. Sky realized that he was hurtling toward it at incredible speed.

The line wavered and ripped apart. Sky glimpsed stacked concrete blocks beyond. There was a moment of disorientating weightlessness, and then he slammed into the wall so hard the impact knocked him cold.

* * *

Everything was dark, pitch black. Blacker than night. And the smell…

It was horrible. It was like standing at the counter of Piggy's restaurant, but worse. His mouth tasted like something had crawled inside and died. Maybe he was the one that had died, and this was all some kind of awful afterlife.

Something bit his hand, and the pain brought him fully back to consciousness. He opened his eyes in time to see a small and grey creature scurry away on short legs.

A rat.

He had just been bitten by a rat. Sky fought back a wave of nausea and pushed himself to his feet. He leaned heavily against the wall and tried to get his bearings.

'Where am I?' His last conscious moments were hazy and faint. He remembered fighting Tomars… and then nothing. 'Where is everyone?'

He was alone in an alley between two tall and windowless buildings. The smell, and the rat, came from one of the overfilled black dumpsters that lined the street. The rumble of traffic echoed from nearby.

Sky glanced at his injured hand and bit back a curse. Blood oozed from two small punctures in the fleshy part of his thumb. He tore a strip of fabric from the bottom his shirt — no easy task with an injured hand — and bandaged the wound as best he could. That finished, Sky walked toward the bright column of sunlight and sound that marked the entrance of the alley.

He stepped out into a city transformed.

Glass towers stretched into the clouds, their shining facades streaked with pink and orange from the sunset. He passed a storefront and a holographic salesperson followed, pitching products he had never heard of at a rapid-fire pace. On the next block, the glass itself rippled with color and shifted to an advertisement for a luxurious interplanetary vacation, complete with midnight black beaches and moon tours.

A huge billboard caught his eye as it hovered over the street. The advertisement displayed a badge with a stylized human hand. Beneath it were three silver letters: S.P.D.

Text flashed beneath the acronym. "Humanity must stand together! Fight for your freedom!"

This was Newtech City. It had to be. He recognized the street names. An elementary school used to be here, on this corner. Over there was an old firehouse, now replaced with a hotel. Had the inter-dimensional hyperspace relocator thrown him into the future?

Someone bumped into him. "Sorry," Sky muttered, distracted. His breath caught in his throat when he saw who it was. "Bridge?"

Bridge froze for a split second and then shoved Sky with all his strength. Sky was taken completely by surprise. He careened into a group of sightseers. By the time he recovered, Bridge was half a block ahead and weaving in and out of the crowd with ease.

Sky set off in pursuit. Bridge made a sharp turn into a narrow street and swung himself up a fire escape. He soon disappearing over the edge of the roof.

Sky began to climb. This building was old, the bricks worn and darkened with age. The fire escape rattled and creaked with every step. Some parts were dangerously rusted. His foot plummeted through a rotting step and, as he struggled to free himself, a woman spotted him from her open apartment window. She let out a high-pitched scream before retreating from sight.

He reached the top just in time to see Bridge fling himself off the edge. The teen landed in a graceful roll on an adjacent roof. He straightened and, for the first time, met Sky's eyes. There was a challenge there, a hard edge of defiance.

This wasn't the Bridge he knew. No, this was someone else, someone altogether unpredictable and dangerous. This Bridge was willing to risk both of their lives in order to prove a point, and Sky had no idea what that point was.

He approached the edge and peered over. The drop was massive, thirty floors down a yawning chasm of brick and concrete. The wail of police sirens came from far below. He had to make a choice, right now: jump, and contend with a hostile Bridge, or stay and face arrest. Sky backed away from the edge. He took a bracing breath and broke into a full run. The moment his feet left the ground, he knew he wasn't going to make it.

Time became elastic. The gaps between each heartbeat lengthened and stretched. His perception sharpened until every brick of the opposite wall stood out in sharp detail. A flailing hand caught the edge of the roof, and Sky hung there precariously. He grabbed for a second handhold while his feet scrabbled against the side of the building.

Before he could pull himself to safety, a booted foot crunched down on his injured hand. Bridge looked at him with cold eyes and slowly drew his blaster.

"Don't," Sky cried out. "I don't want to fight you. I just want to talk." He slipped a little further towards a certain death, three hundred feet below. "I'm not who you think I am."

Bridge hesitated for a long moment, and then the weight on his hand lifted.

"I know," Bridge told him. He pulled Sky onto the roof. "Because if you were the real Sky, I would already be dead."

 


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time, Sky had a chance to study the Bridge of this universe. The teen facing him was all lean muscle and determination. This Bridge was an experienced and professionally trained fighter, and yet his clothes looked as if they hadn't been washed in weeks. A large, dark stain on the sleeve of his sweatshirt looked uncomfortably like blood.

But it was the eyes that struck him most. They never stopped moving, darting in different directions as if searching for an unseen enemy. Dark circles revealed the kind of fatigue that only came from living in constant fear. Sky had seen that look before, in fugitives and frightened witnesses.

Bridge looked like he had stumbled off a battlefield.

Sky raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, but Bridge never lowered his blaster.

"Why did they send you?" Bridge demanded.

"No one sent me." Sky was careful not to make any sudden movements. "I'm from a different world, a parallel universe." It was the only explanation. It had to be.

Tomars had once said that the inter-dimensional hyper-speed relocator could transport anyone to any location in the sixteen universes. The universe he had visited with Jack had been twisted and empty, oddly devoid of human life. But maybe there were other universes, like his own but different in subtle ways…

Bridge scoffed. "Right, you're from a parallel universe, and I was born on Sirius. Is that the best story you can come up with?" His finger tightened on the blaster trigger. "You tell Sky — the real Sky — that I'm not going back. Not ever. And if he wants to kill me, he'll have to come do it himself instead of sending a clone or whatever you are."

"Look, I don't know anything about that," Sky said. This Bridge also was wearing gloves. Did that mean that he had the same powers? "If you scan me, you'll know I'm telling the truth."

Bridge removed a glove and scanned him with a sharp movement. He frowned at whatever he saw.

"I don't know who or what you are," Bridge said softly, "but stay away from me." He backed away, never taking his eyes from Sky. When he reached the edge of the roof he holstered his blaster and dropped out of sight.

Sky heard shouts as the police arrived on the far roof. He ignored them and descended by a service ladder. When he reached the street, he merged with the crowd and allowed it to carry him away.

He found a small green space where three streets intersected and sat down on an empty bench. An abandoned and coffee-stained issue of the Newtech Times lay on the slats. The date was identical to his own universe, but the headline said:

**Millionare Richard Samuels and Family Dies in Tragic Accident.**

_Mr. Richard Samuels, a prominent Newtech City businessman, passed away along with his wife and only daughter when their historic mansion was destroyed by fire late last night. Investigators determined that the fire was caused by fault electrical wiring. Mr. Samuels was known for his aggressive business tactics and often ruthless managerial style. However, to those who knew him well…_

Everything in this city was new, unfamiliar and dangerous. And Bridge…

Bridge thought Sky wanted take him back… but to where? The more he thought about the encounter, the stronger the feeling of foreboding grew. Did Bridge truly believe that the alternate Sky - persumambly, his counterpart in this universe - was trying to kill him?

Sky unclipped his morpher. "Sky Tate, reporting in. Is anyone there?"

There was no answer, although he hadn't expected one. He wondered if Tomars had been successfully confined and if Bridge — the Bridge he knew — was okay. Cruger was probably interrogating the criminal right now, while Kat and the others worked on bringing him home.

The sun began to set, and an alarm echoed from high above. He might have imagined it, but everyone seemed to move a little faster. Within minutes, the streets were empty. Unnerved, Sky stood. He heard the sound of metal grating against pavement, and ducked out of sight as an armored tank rumbled past.

The bushes rustled nearby. "Psst!" A familiar head poked out of the foliage.

Piggy did a double take when he saw Sky, but there was no recognition in his eyes. "Oh. I didn't think… you're human. Criminal? One of those poor illegals from the colonies? Either way, you need to find a better hiding place."

"What?"

"Are you deaf or something?" Piggy gestured in the direction of the tank. "More of them will come any moment." True to his word, the distinctive beat of helicopter blades cut through the air.

"Come on!" Piggy dragged him to a well-disguised manhole and jumped in. Sky followed. He landed knee-deep in sewer water.

"Ugh!" Sky covered his mouth with his hand.

"You'll get used to it," Piggy said. The alien rummaged in his pockets until he found a flashlight, and set off at a run deeper into the tunnel.

Sky struggled to keep up, his sodden pants and shoes weighing down his every step. He quickly became disoriented. Every mold-stained, asphalt corridor looked the same to him, but Piggy seemed to know exactly where he was going.

"That's an interesting uniform you've got there," Piggy turned and suddenly said. He appraised Sky with keen eyes. "In fact, I haven't seen one like it for years."

Piggy twirled the flashlight in his palm and abruptly shone the beam into Sky's eyes. Sky stumbled and blinked away spots. When he recovered, Piggy had a blaster aimed at his chest.

Sky groaned aloud. "Well, Piggy. I wish I could say this was a surprise."

* * *

Piggy shrugged, but Sky thought he saw a hint of remorse in his expression. "Just hand over the cash and your blaster." His beady gaze drifted downward. "And your shoes."

"Well, I don't know," Sky said. He make a show of examining his feet. "Should I give you the shoes, and then the blaster and then the cash? Or the cash first, and then…"

"It doesn't matter!" Piggy snapped. "You—" The breath left his body in a painful whoosh as Sky tackled him. Piggy landed face-down in shallow water and came up sputtering. Sky pinned him and wrenched the blaster from his hand.

"Stand up," Sky ordered. "Slowly."

"No harm, no foul, right?" Piggy squeaked. He scrambled to his feet and tried to inch away. "Oh, no. You're a cadet. I should have know. Please don't take me in. They'll dissect me, peel my skin off, drop me in liquid nitrogen…"

Sky sighed. What was it with people in this world? Did everyone want to kill everyone else?

"I'm not one of your… cadets." Sky said. He held the confiscated blaster out to Piggy by its handle. "Here, take it. Don't try that again."

Piggy opened and closed his mouth several times before obeying. In any other situation, Sky would have been amused to see Piggy — notorious informant, divulger of secrets and general blabbermouth — struck speechless.

"You don't want to kill me?" Piggy finally managed.

"No." What Sky wanted was a way back to own universe, and fast. "I'm looking for an alien named Tomars."

"Tomars?" Piggy stroked his chin and hemmed and hawed. "That sounds familiar. Wasn't he… wait, no. No, I've lost it. My memory isn't what it used to be, you know." He shot Sky a sideways look. "You know, I could use someone like you. If I didn't have to worry so much about my safety, then I might be able to remember this… Tomars."

"You want me to be your bodyguard?"

Piggy squirmed a little. "Yeah. Maybe? Just until I remember, of course," he hurried to add.

Sky considered the request. "Fine," Sky eventually said. "But don't try to rob me again."

"I won't do it again," Piggy promised. He crossed his heart three times, once in the middle and once on each side. "I'm Piggy, by the way." The alien held out his hand, and Sky shook it before introducing himself.

"Sky, huh? That's a weird name," Piggy commented.

"And yours isn't?"

Piggy only shrugged. "My real name is…" he rattled off a string of unpronounceable consonants and clicks. "Piggy is just an approximate translation. In any case, I know a place we can hide out. A good night's sleep does wonders for my memory, you know."

"Down here?" The thought of spending a night in this filthy place was almost unbearable.

Piggy rolled his eyes as if to say, well, duh. "It's the safest place in the city. Maybe if I had more money, I would be able to get someone to smuggle me off-world. But as it is…"

Sky suddenly realized that Piggy was the first alien he had seen all day. In his universe, at least a quarter of the population was from off-world. Where were the other immigrants? "Why is everyone trying to leave?"

"Seriously? If you hadn't noticed, it's not all rotten eggs and rainbows up there. They hunt people — people like me — and drag us off to prison camps. And not the nice, cushy kind humans get sent to, either. The forced labor, work-you-until-you-die-from-starvation kind."

"Who are 'they'?"

"Space Patrol Delta," Piggy spat out the name. "I remember when their motto was 'To Protect and Serve the Galaxy'. What a joke that turned out to be."

"So what do they do now?"

"S.P.D. is devoted to exterminating non-human life throughout the galaxy. Everyone knows that!" Piggy studied Sky and his voice faltered. "Everyone but you. Where did you say you were from, again?"

"I didn't," Sky said.

Piggy took the hint. "Not much for words, huh. Well, I can live with that. Come on, then." The alien pointed down another tunnel. "This way."

The next tunnel was small enough that Sky had to hunch over to walk through it. A few more twists and turns, and the tunnel gave way to a larger space. Someone had laid wooden pallets across the floor, creating a dry platform. A few aliens were resting on stained and obviously scavenged mattresses. Others were digging through bags of trash. When Sky stepped into view, they all stopped and stared.

"Look," Piggy whispered to him, "not everyone likes humans. Just keep your head down, don't cause any trouble and you'll be fine. And no matter what anyone says, how you wound up on the run is your own business."

Piggy raised his voice. "Hey, everyone. This is my friend, Sky. I'm helping him lay low for a couple days."

"How do you know that you can trust him?" One alien, who seemed to have skin made of rock, asked. The others murmured in agreement.

Piggy raised a finger. "First, he's dumb as a post." There was scattered, nervous laughter from the crowd. "Second, I tried to shoot him and he gave me back my blaster. Would any cadet you know do that?"

Another alien, clearly female, stood and studied them both. She had blue skin and iridescent eyes, and Sky was certain that he saw translucent wings peeping out from beneath her coat. "The real question is, can we trust you, Piggy?"

"Oh, come on!" Piggy pleaded. "How many times have I helped you guys out? It's only for a couple of days. And besides, not all humans are bad."

The rock alien grunted. "Haven't met a good one yet," he said, and returned to picking through the trash.

"Don't mind him, cutie," said the blue-skinned woman from before. "I'm sure you're fine. I hear they even have humans working for the Resistance."

Another alien, a male from the same species, gave her a disproving look. "You're too trusting, Dhara. You don't even know him."

She gestured at their meager surroundings. "Who's he going to tell, the rats?"

As if on cue, a rat scurried by and squeaked at him territorially. Sky wondered if it was a relative of the rat that bit him — a cousin maybe, or an uncle. Piggy handed him a stack of damp newspapers.

"Here, all yours." Piggy gestured at a clear spot. "Home sweet home." The alien lay down on a scrap of carpet and was soon fast asleep.

Sky lay down and turned on his side, expecting to feel nimble hands pickpocketing him any moment. He tried to ignore the irregular snores that came from Piggy. A single thought nagged at him. A parallel universe where S.P.D. was evil? That couldn't be true… could it?

* * *

Click. Click. Clank.

Something skittered across the floor.

Sky opened his eyes and saw a metal canister rolling toward him, releasing a stream of noxious gas. "Piggy!"

Piggy bolted to his feet, only to collide with a masked stranger. Sky yanked the alien to the side just as a baton ripped through the air. The stranger overbalanced and Sky added to their momentum, shoving them forward into the crowd.

Piggy was already running, shoving friend and foe aside in his haste to escape. Sky was nearly trampled by the rock alien, who only made a step or two before being trapped under an electrified net.

The blue-skinned woman screamed from beside him and fell. A menacing shadow loomed over her, fist raised to strike. Sky tackled her attacker. It was like colliding with a bus. The man easily lifted him off his feet and slammed him into the ground.

A heavy boot pressed on his neck. Sky struggled in vain as the world greyed around the edges. Just as the agony in his chest became unbearable, the weight lifted.

"Captain! You should take a look at this!"

Another pair of booted feet stomped over, and gloved hands roughly grabbed his face.

"It's impossible," one of his captors said in a shocked voice. "He's…"

But after that there was only silence.

* * *

A flash of terror cut through the haze. Sky clawed his way back to consciousness. He opened his eyes to the white, sterile ceiling of an infirmary room. He tried to move, but his arms and legs were securely strapped to the bed. The bite on his hand had been cleaned and carefully redressed.

A rotund man with a boyish face came into view. Sky recognized him as one of the assistant medics in his own universe.

"Good, you're awake." The medic checked the monitors and tapped a note into his datapad. "How are you feeling?"

"Where am I?" Sky demanded. His head throbbed like the entire Academy marching band was trapped inside.

"You're in the infirmary of S.P.D. Headquarters. You had an adverse reaction to the tear gas, caused by your unique physiology."

"My unique…"

"Oh, yes. We are already familiar with the particular genetic markers for your powers. In fact, the cloning process that produced you must have been amazingly sophisticated…"

Someone cleared their throat nearby. The medic snapped to attention.

"Commander. There appears to have been no lasting damage. The patient will make a full recovery."

The Commander of this alternate S.P.D. was not what Sky expected. The man was powerfully built, but he carried himself with dignity and cool composure. A keen intelligence shone from his grey eyes. When he saw Sky, his narrow lips set into a frown.

He was followed by a scientist with cropped brown hair and delicate features. Sky wondered how old she was; she could pass for thirty, but something told him she was much older. She reminded him very much of Kat.

"I am Commander Reyes and this is Dr. Naomi Archer." The Commander's voice was deep and powerful. It was the kind of voice that made people listen, made them want to obey. "And you, no doubt, believe yourself to be Sky Tate."


	3. Chapter 3

“I know who I am.”

“Do you really?” Commander Reyes crossed his arms and frowned even deeper. “Then you realize that you are an illegally-created clone of one of my elite cadets.”

“I’m not a clone,” Sky shot back. “I have nothing to do with your cadets. I’m from a parallel universe.”

“Is that what they programmed you to say?”

“No,” Sky said in a quiet voice. “It’s the truth.” But he knew they wouldn’t believe him. He was still having a hard time believing it himself.

Dr. Archer stepped closer. “I realize that you don’t trust us. But you have been manipulated and lied to, brainwashed into believing these absurd stories. If you let us, we can help you.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted their help. Not after what Piggy had told him, and what he had seen in the tunnels. “Then give me back my things and let me go.”

“I don’t think you understand what’s at stake here.” Dr. Archer waved over a nurse, who removed his restraints and deposited neat pile of clothing on the foot of the bed. Sky sat up slowly and rubbed his sore wrists.

“There’s something I’d like you to see,” Dr. Archer said. “You should get dressed.”

“I’m trusting you not to hurt anyone,” Reyes added. His tone said that he doubted Sky could even manage that. “I won’t hesitate to have you restrained again.”

The nurse glanced at Reyes for permission before drawing the curtains. Alone at last, Sky sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump. He had nothing: no money, no friends, not even his own clothes. He might not trapped in a confinement card, or locked in a holding cell, but he was very clearly a prisoner.

The new clothes were soft and worn, but they fit him perfectly. It felt strange, even uncomfortable, to be wearing civilian clothes. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore a t-shirt and jeans. Not since Gruumm first invaded Earth, at least.

Sky steeled himself and opened the curtains. Dr. Archer and Commander Reyes studied him and exchanged an unreadable look.

“This way,” Dr. Archer said.

They stepped out into a busy hallway. Cadets pressed against the walls and saluted as their Commander passed. He recognized many of them from his own universe: the tall brunette with the green eyes worked in the science division; just the other day, Cruger had asked his opinion about the cadet to her right, a D-squad hopeful and talented fighter. The lanky cadet waiting for the elevator was one of his former classmates at the Academy.

They stepped inside a polished silver elevator. Dr. Archer pressed the top button, marked with a large black “C”. The doors opened to the Command Center. Sky would recognize it in any universe. This was the nerve center of S.P.D.

Cadets with blaster rifles and stony expressions guarded the elevators, while others toiled at their stations, monitoring communications and studying sensors for the slightest change. Officers barked orders and debated strategies with their peers.

The Command Center was surrounded by glass, giving a sweeping view of the city. But what caught his attention was not the unfamiliar skyline. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the center of the Command Center, where a hologram showed dozens of tiny, hovering blue spheres. Each was connected to the others by a thin tendril of light. One glowed brighter than the rest, a cerulean orb orbited by a single white dot. Sky realized that he was looking at a star map. Beyond the cluster of blue worlds, there were countless smaller spheres, pulsating a threatening red.

Dr. Archer noticed his interest and approached the hologram. “This is a map of the core worlds.” She pointed at the blue section. “Each of those blue dots represents a human world, full of people just like you or me. There are over three trillion people scattered between fifty-three planets and moons. And they rely on us to protect them from a hostile and dangerous universe.”

“Most aliens are not dangerous,” Sky protested. “They’re just like humans — most just want to live their lives and be left alone.”

Commander Reyes scowled, but Dr. Archer gave him a sad smile. “At one time, I believed that to be true. In those days, aliens were allowed to emigrate to Earth. But the war changed everything.” Her eyes were unfocused, lost in distant memories. “Gruumm came to earth and we accepted alien help to fight him. We didn’t realize it at the time, but that we had created a war on two fronts. Gruumm used alien spies to infiltrate our cities. No one knew how widespread it was until it was too late.

“Before the war, there were thirty billion people on this planet. Afterward, there were fifteen. People were sick of having their friends, their families die in pointless alien wars. That was when Space Patrol Delta dedicated itself to protect the people of Earth — and all human worlds — from future threats.”

Sky thought of Piggy and the other prisoners. Those aliens could barely manage to keep themselves fed, much less challenge an organization as powerful as S.P.D. “You protect the Earth by attacking and arresting homeless aliens? I know what I saw in the sewers, and those people were no threat to you.”

“Those aliens were criminals,” Reyes pointed out. “Like all human worlds, this planet is off-limit to alien life forms.”

Sky nodded slowly. Laws and rules were something familiar, something he could understand. The Gruumm of this universe might have been defeated, but there would always be crime.

“So what do you do here, exactly?” Sky asked. There must be hundreds — maybe thousands — of cadets, instructors and scientists working at Headquarters. Far too many for a peacetime force.

“We act on intelligence gathered from the community about alien infiltrators, many of whom remained here on earth after the war,” Dr. Archer explained. “This often takes the form of raids, like the one you… witnessed.”

Sky could tell that the scientist was trying hard to be conciliatory, although he was suspected Commander Reyes was gritting his teeth.

They returned to the elevator. Dr. Archer pulled a key card from her pocket and inserted it into a hidden slot. The elevator lurched into motion again. “We work in tandem with the Earth Police Force to detain human criminals and aliens. We also develop new technologies to identify and neutralize emerging threats. For example, we have invented scanners that allow us to identify aliens who take on human form, such as shape-shifters or body-snatchers.”

They stepped out onto an narrow observation platform. A scientist sat at a console, monitoring the life signs of several individuals. Sky looked out the tinted glass and saw a complex labyrinth, complete with state-of-the-art laser security and remote-activated traps. Aliens armed with blasters patrolled the maze. An aliens was struck by blaster fire and instantly disappeared. Sky realized that this was a training simulation, complete with hostile holograms.

As he watched, a lithe teenager dispatched an enemy with a knife throw. Then she duplicated herself and finished off four more. A blonde girl in a matching uniform joined the fray, disintegrating an alien with a single punch, just as a third teammate phased through the wall. They were so coordinated, so skilled that it almost looked like a deadly dance routine.

He should have been studying their fighting style and their tactics. He should have been evaluating their weaknesses, in case he had to fight them one day, but somehow he couldn’t look away from the mirror image of himself. The alternate Sky dodged blaster fire with practiced ease. He aimed his blaster at a tiny target, and a wave of enemies disintegrated in a blazing inferno.

Commander Reyes spoke, and Sky tore his gaze away from the battle below.

“Here on Earth, we are fortunate to have an immensely talented, highly experienced strike team to handle the most critical threats,” Reyes said. He looked down at his team with a deep, genuine expression of pride. “We call them the Delta Force.”

 

* * *

 

As Sky watched, the holographic obstacle course flickered and then reshaped itself into a verdant jungle. The alternate team, obeying some unknown signal, split into groups and soon disappeared beneath the trees.

“Why are you showing me this?”

Dr. Archer studied him solemnly. “Because we need your help.”

“My help?” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Reyes sighed, and a shadow crossed his face. “This is a critical point in our operations, and the worst possible time for the Delta Force to be missing a member.”

He handed Sky a folder marked TOP SECRET. The first item in the folder was a typed letter with a codename: Operation Unrelenting Justice. “On the surface, Unrelenting Justice was a simple covert ops mission. Our goal was to infiltrate and neutralize a group of alien terrorists. We sent one of our best cadets undercover, but became concerned after a prolonged lack of contact.”

The second item in the folder was a picture of a familiar teen with ruffled brown hair. He wondered whether the photo was recent. Bridge seemed relaxed, even happy. He looked nothing like the frightened, nearly feral individual Sky had met on the roof.

“This is your cadet?” Sky asked, as he tried to look indifferent. He didn’t want to reveal how much he already knew.

“Yes. His name is Bridge Carson,” Dr. Archer said. “He’s the fifth member of the Delta Force.”

“You seem pretty sure he’s still alive,” Sky observed.

Commander Reyes huffed. “Call it a hunch. This particular group of terrorists are cunning. I would not put it past them to brainwash or otherwise manipulate a compromised agent. Especially one with such unique skills and experience.”

Sky had a very good idea where this was leading. “So you want me to find your lost cadet?”

“No. Nobody is more important than keeping this planet safe,” Commander Reyes said. “Not even Bridge. Our number one priority is to complete his mission. That’s where you come in.”

“That said,” Dr. Archer added, “we would like to see Mr. Carson returned alive, if all possible. Our Sky and Bridge share a special bond. We believe it might work to your advantage.”

Sky was silent for a long time. “Why should I help you? All this,” he gestured toward the training simulation and the alternate team, “has nothing to do with me.”

Commander Reyes answered with a question of his own. “Tell me, do you believe that people are inherently good? In other words, what do you think would happen in a world without laws?”

“There would be chaos,” Sky said quietly. “Society would crumble. A lot of people would get hurt.”

“Right,” Dr. Archer said. “That’s why the morphers were created; to preserve order and keep people safe.” She reached into her lab coat pocket and pulled out a morpher — his morpher. “Yes, I know what this is. I also know who gave it to you.”

The final picture in the operation folder was old, likely dating from before the war. In the photo, Kat smiled at the camera and held up an golden award plaque. A printed subtitle said, ‘Dr. Kat Manx, recipient of the Orion award for outstanding contributions to science.’

“Kat Manx. Resourceful, single-minded, and a true scientific genius.” There was a wistful note to Dr. Archer’s voice, and Sky glanced at her, startled. “She’s also a wanted terrorist and convicted mass murderer. You may not know this, but Dr. Manx stole the morphers from S.P.D. during the final days of the war. However, since they were locked to the genetic code of the Delta Force, she was never able to use them… until now.”

Sky looked again at the picture. This alternate Kat was identical to his own, all the way down to the pointed ears and freckles. Even the bright smile was genuine, reaching all the way to her emerald green eyes. It was hard to believe that this Kat was evil.

Reyes seemed to follow his thoughts. “Don’t be fooled by appearances, or even past experience,” the Commander warned. “Kat Manx is one of the most dangerous criminals in the galaxy. She betrayed S.P.D. and this entire planet. And, whether you know it or not, she betrayed you.”


End file.
